


collection of drabbles

by dhoney



Category: GOT7, Monsta X (Band), NCT (Band), NCT 127 - Fandom, NCT Dream
Genre: F/M, not sure what tags to add rn, so i’ll probably add tags as i add chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:47:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22238098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dhoney/pseuds/dhoney
Summary: i’ll be using songs/inspiration from my playlist to make a book of drabbles! i got the idea from one of my moots on twt and it’s been in my head ever since. smtimes i want to write but don’t have the inspo, so listening to a song and creating an idea from that can be an easy outlet! i’m not sure what songs i’ll use yet, what boys, or what types of stories they’ll be, but i think that’s the fun part! my twt is hyucksmommy <3
Relationships: Lee Minhyuk (Monsta X)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	1. sleep on the floor

**Author's Note:**

> minhyuk; you two really need to get away.

You remember his tired tone this morning, barley audible through the speaker of your phone, telling you he’d probably be home late again due to work.

Minhyuk was working his hardest to juggle the work of becoming the new CEO of his parents company. Even though he didn’t want it. He absolutely _hated_ his life. The only thing that made it bearable was you.

You were on your way to your own work, your current position was a desk job at the cities police station, when you called him. You loved the work, but had to deal with so much shit from everyone there, and never getting to actually work out in the field, had made you grow to hate it.

You both had met in highschool, quickly becoming close, the highschool sweethearts soon enough, been through thick and thin together, and lately the only excitement you’d get was when you’d see Minhyuk. Over the past year it’s gotten worse, both of you hating waking up and having to leave each other, both know how miserable the other was all day.

You toss your phone onto the passenger seat of your truck after hanging up with him, replaying the tone of his voice, his words.

_This just sucks, my heads killing me._

_I’m sorry I shouldn’t complain, I know you’re probably in a bad mood too._

_I’m guessing I’ll be home late again.. don’t stay up waiting for me okay? Promise?_

_I love you._

If you think too hard about it, it makes you tear up. You’re both near mid-twenties, already miserable with your lives. The only happiness you two had were yourselves. You feel trapped by a job you once loved, remembering when it made you happy to go there. To work, to feel a part of something. Now you regret it, wishing you had known all your co-workers, men and women, would turn out to be ruthlessly mean, piling work onto you, finding ways to blame you for any minor inconvenience. You were tired of it.

As if on auto pilot, your hand grabs your phone again, as the other on the steering wheel spins to do a u-turn.

“Hello?” Minhyuk’s slightly confused voice answers, probably wondering why you’re calling again.

“Go home and pack some stuff, I’m leaving.”

“You’re _what_?”

“I’m going home, packing my toothbrush and my favorite outfit, and then I’m going to the bank and getting all the money out of my account. I’m leaving.”

“Okay wait you–“

“If I don’t leave _now_ , I’m never going to make it out of here. The choice you need to make is if you’re going to come with me.”

There’s silence. Currently, Minhyuk’s standing by his desk, where he was going to sit down. Staring at the folders on his desk, he thinks. His shirt feels stiff and his tie might be way too tight, because it’s hard to breathe.

So he walks out.

“I’ll meet you there.” Your phone beeps as he hangs up, and you let out the breath you were holding.

—

“What do we need?” You’re already done packing by the time he walks through the front door, tossing his suitcase onto the kitchen counter, hands hurrying to pull at his tie, muttering about how it’s too tight.

Without a word, you hold his face in your hands, staring into his eyes and seeing the panic in them. The warmth calms him, letting out a shakey breath. You shush him softly, hands sliding down his neck, undoing his tie for him, nodding when he gives a soft thank you. Your hands return to his cheeks, and his own hands rest on your wrists.

“Are we really leaving?” Barley a whisper, his voice raspy.

“We weren’t born to drown here.” Is your answer, thumbs rubbing along his cheekbones. It takes a moment, but the panic fades from his eyes, something warm that you haven’t seen in a long time appearing in them, and he slowly smiles.

“What do I need?” His question from earlier is now asked with excitement, _confidence_.

—

Both of you have one bag, stuffed with a toothbrush, chargers and laptops, underwear and your favorite items of clothing. The rest, you leave behind, all the decorations bought by Minhyuk’s parents, all the fancy clothes and expensive items thst none of you care about. Minhyuk’s scribbling down a note, a simple ‘We’re safe’ to leave on the counter, knowing his parents will eventually get worried and use their spare key to the house. The last thing you grab besides your keys, is the framed photo of you and Minhyuk off of the living room table.

It’s a little blurry, a memory captured at a friends bonfire, one of them insisting on taking a photo of the two of you, sitting in front of the fire and hugging each other. It’s one of the best memories you both have, one of the happiest since high school. You hope to change that now, hope to make more than just that memory.

You’re busy staring at it, because when Minhyuk speaks, it startles you.

And he laughs. Truly laughs.

That reassures you, eases every worry you have, and then you’re looking at him.

“Ready?” He’s holding his hand out, other one clutching his small duffle.

“Ready.”

—

Two hours later, you’re over the state line, radio louder than you’ve ever had it. You both got all the money to your names out of the bank, and stopped for breakfast at a diner a few towns away, getting odd looks due to the office attire you both wore. Since you’re driving, Minhyuk feeds you pieces of bacon, both of you conversing for what feels like the first time. It’s only been a couple hours, but you both have some of the biggest smiles on your faces, laughing, him insisting on holding your hand, thumb rubbing over your skin lovingly.

Another hour later and you stop in another town at a thrift store, carrying in just your wallet and finding clothes for one another. You both change in the dressing rooms, leaving behind your office wear. The cashier at the desk is refreshing, smiling wide at the both of you as if she knows exactly whats going on.

—

“God this feels nice.” The sun is shining, heat beating down on Minhyuk’s arm as he hangs it out the open window, wind blowing his hair from his face. His other arm lays across the middle consol of your truck, holding your hand tightly.

He turns his head, staring at you, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head. You can feel him staring, a smile growing on your lips, and you laugh after a few seconds.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Okay.” He reaches in the backseat, reluctantly letting go of your hand as he grabs his duffle bag, pulling it onto his lap.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking a picture, _duh_.” He pulls out his camera, you should’ve known he wouldn’t leave that behind, and he pushes his bag onto the floor between his feet. From the corner of your eye, you see him turn towards you, holding his camera in front of him portrait ways, and then you hear the click of the camera. He pulls it away, looking at the screen and smiling as wide as he can.

“You’re beautiful.”

“I know I am.” You joke softly, and he giggles right back.

“Shut up, pull over I want to take more photos.”

You sleep in the truck that night, seats reclined, the blankets you had stored in your truck laid over the both of you, fingers interlocked resting on the middle consol.

—

“Dammit! I just didn’t fucking notice, this is ridiculous.” The tank of gas you had gotten yesterday afternoon had been burnt up from the driving, and by night the next day, the tank was empty and you hadn’t noticed it until it was too late. You’re pissed at yourself, but Minhyuk can’t stop asking you softly to not be mad, that you’ll get someone to stop and help. And you do.

The man who stops introduces himself as Hyungwon, unbelievably tall with beautifully curly hair. He gives you both a ride to the gas station just a few smiles ahead, during which the three of you click in no time. When you tell him you both left your entire life in the next state over, you expect him to laugh, but all Hyungwon does is smile, and then speak.

“I’m proud of you two, doing that must’ve taken some guts.” He tells you about his roommates, his best friends, Jooheon and Wonho, and how they’d love to meet the both of you. So after getting gas, you all decide to drive to Hyungwon’s house, getting out drinks and games, turning on a movie, the five of you feeling like you’ve been friends for your entire lives.

That night, you two sleep on the floor in front of the couch, holding each other close, blankets tucked around you both.

“Hey.” Minhyuk’s small voice breaks the silence.

“Yeah?” Your nails trace delicate shapes on his arm thats around you, making him sleepy.

“Let’s get married, okay?” The smile you get hurts your cheeks, eyes suddenly burning with tears.

“Okay.”

He holds you a bit tighter, closing his eyes, and you both finally feel as if you’re home.


	2. porcelain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> xuxi; it’s alright to take time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is super short but it’s for xuxi’s birthday snd i’m LATE 2 but i still did it 🥺 my twt is bunsbabi i know i keep changing it

“ _Xuxi_! How’s everything going? Perfect timing because I just got off of work.” He hears the smile in your tone, feeling his heart jump and he sniffles.

You’re unlocking your car, tossing your bag inside and getting in, before realizing he hasn’t said anything, “Xuxi?”

“Yeah, everythings good.” You hum as you stick your keys in the ignition, shaking your head.

“Alright, what has the birthday boy so down?” You put your phone on speaker and toss it on the passenger seat so you can focus on the road.

“Nothin, Jess and I had dinner.. she just left.”

“Don’t lie to me, did something happen?” Keeping your voice soft, you know he’s trying his hardest to not seem sad, he usually hides anything that upsets him, so you’ll have to be gentle if you want to figure it out.

“I promise nothing happened I– ..just wanted to talk..” He still doesn’t sound very convincing, so you hum.

“Xuxi, tell me what’s wrong okay?” You try a direct approach one last time, and he goes quiet for a few moments.

Until there’s a sniffle.

Followed by another, and then the smallest of whimpers, “She _broke up_ with me.”

That surprises you, to say the least, yet your protective side takes over immediately, “Oh bubby.. I’m so sorry..”

“She– she just left.. I didn’t.. know who else to call..” He’s crying now, frantically wiping at his tears, trying his absolute hardest to stop crying. His cheeks burn with embarrassment, after all he _did_ get broken up with on his birthday. After their dinner. A nice, happy dinner, and then she broke the news, and then left him sitting on the couch all by himself.

“Hey, I’m glad you called me, okay? Don’t feel bad for calling.”

“I just– I _thought_ everything was _fine_.” His cries break your heart, feeling yourself tear up just by hearing how heartbroken he is.

“Bubby, I’m gonna come over okay? I’ll stay on the phone until I get there.” He barely gets out an ‘okay’ before he cries harder, and you feel yourself press down on the gas just a little harder.

Pulling into his driveway, you tell him you’re here and hang up, quickly heading up to his front door, finding it unlocked, and going inside.

“Xuxi?” The call makes him raise his head, sniffling and wiping at his tear soaked face but even that can’t stop his tears. You spot him on the couch, knees drawn up and hugged close to his chest, lip quivering with a wave of fresh tears. You’re quick to settle next to him, pulling him close and rubbing his back, letting him cry it out. He clings to you, burying his face into your shoulder.

He oddly finds himself calming down at your touch, your nails tracing little shapes on his arm, your other hand rubbing at his back. He faintly hears you telling him to breathe, so he listens, doing his best to try to breathe normally again. That helps him to stop crying eventually, soft whimpers and tiny sniffles escaping still.

“Stay here, I’m gonna get you some water bubby.” The silly nickname makes his heart jump, sniffling and nuzzling closer to you.

“ _No_ , stay.” It comes as a soft whine, making you laugh softly.

“I’m gonna get you some water and I’ll be right back. I promise.” He reluctantly lets you get up, hugging his arms close to himself. Xuxi feels a headache coming on, making his forehead throb, rubbing at his face with a sniffle. You come back with a glass of ice water, handing it to him and watching him take a few sips, then you tug him to his feet.

“Let’s get you cleaned up okay?” The hands that wipe his tears away gives him a warm feeling, keeping him calm. He lets you tug him down the hallway to the bathroom, He watches as you get a washcloth from the closet and wet it with warm water, sniffling as you cup his cheek and gently wipe at his tears, soothing the ache that comes from crying.

“We’ll get some snacks and watch some movies, okay? I’ll stay with you tonight.” You wait for a protest to leave him, but he instead nods, trying to give his best smile. Over the many years you’ve been friends, you’ve only ever seen him cry like that, once when he was little and skinned his knees really bad, and then later on when his dog died, then after that he’d cry at sad movies or from laughing too hard. Xuxi recalls those times, and many other barely there memories, always seeing the same person in every one. you.

“You know..” He speaks softly, not trusting his voice to be steady after crying for so long, “I thought by now.. that I’d have everything figured out.. a job, a girlfriend, a plan for life…”

You listen as he speaks, smoothing his bangs from his eyes and tossing the washcloth into the small towel hamper, “But now.. I have _no_ idea how to feel..”

“I can’t erase what happened.. or go back and change it.. I just– don’t know how to feel..”

“It’s alright if you don’t know what you need.” The words make him sniffle again, looking up from the floor to his best friend, “I’m right here okay? Whatever you need, time, someone to cry to, I’ll be here.”

He tries not to cry again, tears welling up, and he barely gets out a ‘thank you’ before he’s crying again, but the way you panic and rush to dry his tears makes him giggle, somehow able to laugh even though just an hour before, he was getting broken up with. He thinks it’s because it’s you, that if he would have called anyone else, he’d still be on his couch bawling his eyes out to someone who wouldn’t have cared as much. Deep down in him, old, long forgotten feelings start to rise again, but he figures he’ll deal with that later. For now, he lets you drag him back to the couch, watching as you turn the bright overhead light off, turning on the little sets of fairy lights around the tv, clearing off the table quickly and shushing him when he tries to help. He watches as you go back and forth, from the kitchen to the living room, clearing the dishes and then bringing out some snacks, telling him to find a movie to watch.

After softly asking for some medicine for his headache, he turns on the tv to search for any movie, not necessarily caring what it’s about, giggling when you come back and throw some blankets on him, and then give him the medicine. After a moment, he finds himself comfortable, tucked against you as some movie begins, your hand in his hair.

He doesn’t feel the need to speak, to ruin the moment, but he figures this is exactly what he needs.


End file.
